Indefinite
by Airyo
Summary: Another lifetime ago, Hinata found love. But her world, her reality, could not allow for a happy ending. Until now.
1. Chapter 1

Indefinite

By Airyo

Chapter 1

* * *

_"I'll find my way back to you."_

_They both knew it was a lie._

_"Then," he promised, "I shall wait."_

* * *

Hinata blinked away the blurriness and readjusted her reading glasses. The words on the page still contorted into meaningless squiggles. With a sigh, she shut the book and looked out the open window. The moon hung low and swollen, as if it was leaning in to peer at her accusingly.

"Oh, stop it," she scolded. In response, a swell of summer breeze darted in, teasing the wisps of her graying hair. Hinata shook her head with a chuckle and set aside both book and glasses. She must be going senile, talking to a big hunk of rock in the sky.

Not that anyone would blame her. After her husband Kiba passed away last year, Hinata lived alone in their house outside the Hyuuga complex. Their children had their own families and her eldest grandchildren were busy with their genin duties. Even though the footsteps of her friends and family often filled her hallways, the still hours in between were cold and bare.

Hinata pulled her lavender shawl closer to her slim body. Those were the thoughts of a lonely, old woman, and she wasn't nearly so lonely nor old. Maybe she'll get a cat like the infamous Tora and send harried genin after it. It had been amusing when Naruto had tried that, though his cats were so desperate to escape the aura of the Kyuubi that they left a few unfortunate genin with interesting facial scars. Maybe that had been Naruto's plan, so he could have a new generation share, at least superficially, his whiskers.

Which reminded her...Naruto was visiting tomorrow. Hinata stood up in a smooth but careful motion. Her joints were paying her back with interest for all the battles she survived, but the grace she won was still apparent in her every move. She padded to the kitchen, taking inventory of her ramen supply: three pork miso, and five beef. She will need to make trip to the market the next morning.

She went after she had dusted every corner and ledge of her house. Familiar faces greeted her on her way, and Hinata took the time to stop and chat with each.

A pleasant surprise came in the form of one of her younger grandchildren, Hyuuga Chouyou. Her Academy class was out on a field trip.

"Hina-baba!" the little girl squeaked in greeting. Hinata couldn't resist pinching her fat cheeks in passing, much to the embarrassment of Chouyou. She watched her granddaughter stomp off after her teacher and could not help but laugh. Everything was so dramatic through a child's eyes.

* * *

Their first real meeting was tangled in the vague memories of childhood, yet still neatly bound up by tradition. She was four. He was nine. A birthday party. Banners. Cake. Beautiful silks dyed with the colors of a dream. Polished manners. Dirty politics.

Dirtier looks.

He saw her crying in the bushes. Rather than expose her, he drew away their attention, and let the birthday girl hide.

"Thank you," she whispered when she was seeing off the guests.

He smiled.

The younger brother could never compare.

* * *

After returning from the market, Hinata boiled water and filled instant ramen cups that lined her counter. A quick glance out the window showed that the afternoon sun was already beginning to droop to the horizon. Naruto was tardy. Hinata frowned and headed for the front porch. It would not do for him to pick up bad habits from the late Kakashi now.

She stepped outside. It was seemed quiet for a lazy summer evening and even the cicadas seemed less raucous. Hinata checked for stray buckets of water or erasers above her head.

"Boo!"

"Naruto!" she yelped. The culprit leaped down from his perch on the ceiling her porch, cackling as he danced around her.

"Didn't expect that one, didja? Genius, yes I am!" Naruto gloated. She looked up at him. The strain of the housing the Kyuubi took its toll, but even if his face was now creased with laugh lines, age had not diminished the sky blue of his eyes. The forgotten threads of her childhood crush twinged in her chest. Hinata sighed and ushered him inside.

"If you keep wasting time, your ramen will get c-"

She did not get a chance to finish her sentence.

"Thanff for fa raman!" the blonde chirped through a mouthful of noodles as Hinata entered the kitchen. At least Sakura had managed to train him to throw away one empty container before starting on the next. Hinata made tea and took a seat across from him, soaking in the chaotic noises of the one-man food-bucket in action.

Naruto never forgot. Every year on this day, the anniversary of His death, he visited and kept her company.

"Why do you mourn?" Naruto had once asked her. It was the sort of blunt question that only he would ask, because everyone else was too kind or too understanding or too apathetic. It had still surprised her, for those were his first words in the month following Sakura's passing.

Sakura had looked hauntingly beautiful at the funeral, and Hinata knew even now Naruto still saw her when he looked at the faces carved on to the Hokage Monument. Next to Naruto's face was one was in the likeness of their son, with no reflection of the wide grins and dancing, intelligent green eyes of Uzumaki Sasuke in person. Sakura had given her life to save him after she'd beaten the assassins to literal pulp, and Naruto and Sasuke will always remember and honor her for the sacrifice.

"For no unusual reason," Hinata had answered Naruto that day as they looked up at the faces of their leaders, past and present. "I mourn because I know that I've lost something that is more precious than words can convey. And there isn't a thing I can do to change it."

"Does acknowledging that make it better?"

"It doesn't make it worse."

The next day, Naruto had returned with a forced grin, ready to take another shot at molding the world into place where no more precious people would be lost. Hinata still had a hard time believing that the man who bent all the Hidden Villages into a tight alliance was the same old fart who was now choking on his ramen.

"Slow down," she chided as he thumped at his chest. He shot her a noodly grin and kept going at the same pace. Minutes later, when all the empty containers were neatly tucked in her garbage can, Naruto leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. Hinata poured a cup of tea for him and pushed it forward. Steam curled up between them, otherworldly against the afternoon sun. Naruto's smile faded as he studied her.

"How've you been doing?" Even after so many years, Hinata felt uncomfortable under the kindness of his gaze. Still felt undeserving after what she had done.

* * *

She spoke to Itachi once more before he left the village. She had stumbled onto his preferred training clearing in search of a place to be alone.

She narrowly evaded a kunai to the face and escaped with a hairs fewer. She froze and turned to the source.

"Ah! I a-apologize for the intrusion," she said quickly when she realized this hidden sanctuary was already someone else's. She bowed and began to retreat.

"You dodged." He sounded surprised.

She frowned, even though she should not feel indignant.

"W-would it have been better...if I didn't?" she murmured to the ground, missing the faint quirk of amusement that tugged his lips.

"I was aware of you," he assured her. She felt her face heat and she shook her head.

"N-nonetheless, I'm sorry for interrupting y-your training."

She fled the forest.

Six months later, he fled the Leaf.

It did not make sense to her - how such a kind person would do such a brutal thing. While everyone else fussed over the tragic circumstances of the younger brother, she could only wonder if the elder was any better off.

* * *

AN: This could be in the same world as my oneshot 'First Impressions'. Because I can.

This was originally pieces of an oneshot that's been sitting on my harddrive since before 'Come Full Circle', so the format is very similar to back then. But I'm polishing up this little jerk and kicking it out to the interwebs because it cries "finish me…." to me everytime I open up my documents folder.

On the bright side, expect (relatively) quick updates, since I'm just fixing it up here and there. :D


	2. Chapter 2

Indefinite

By Airyo

Chapter 2

* * *

_How have you been doing?_

Such a simple question made Hinata pause. This year had been particularly hard with Kiba's absence. In many ways, their friendship was far stronger than many romances. She had loved her partner dearly.

"I could be better," she replied honestly. Naruto looked pensive. He nodded to himself and then spoke.

"Uchiha Itachi is alive, you know." The slight pause before she brought her cup to her lips was the only indication Hinata had heard him. She took a sip. She didn't trust herself to speak. "It took me a while, but it was kinda obvious in how you acted now that I think about it."

"I never was a very good Hyuuga," she mused. He let out a bark of laughter.

"Says the clan head."

"That's my daughter," she corrected. "And the Hokage shouldn't mock his loyal shinobi."

"That's my son," he mocked and stuck out his tongue. Hinata almost forgot about the gravity of the news he'd dropped on her. She gripped her cup, seeking courage from any source.

"How?" she managed.

"Hinata!" Naruto gasped, clutching a hand to his chest. She gave him a resigned look, aware of where this was going. "That's an inappropriate question to ask one like myself. Hasn't anyone talked to you about the birds and the bees? When a man and a woman really _really_..." he trailed off at Hinata's expression.

"Shit, too far," he muttered sheepishly as he scratched at the back of his head. "Sakura would have pounded my head in, wouldn't she?" Hinata nodded with a sad smile. He pulled a scroll from his robe and rolled to her across the table, an offering in apology. She opened it to see field notes submitted by one Nara Inori, ANBU captain.

..._target found unconscious in Wave territory, mindwalk revealed side effects that resemble Tsukiyomi_...

Hinata looked up.

"He obviously wanted us to know. No one else in the world is capable of this jutsu." She didn't miss the slight bitterness in his tone. Naruto never forgave himself for what he perceived as his greatest failure: he couldn't bring Uchiha Sasuke home. Before she could say anything, his grin dispelled the gloom around him. "Enjoy your vacation, you old bat," he said as he leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. "Sasuke-chan already said he wanted some seashells as a souvenir."

His face blurred, as Hinata could no longer hold back her tears.

* * *

She wanted to cry.

They'd need someone with more field experience, with greater fire power, with better leadership skills to lead the chuunin.

They'd needed Neji. They'd needed someone strong.

They got Hinata instead.

But the Hyuuga Council was getting restless with the lack of accomplishments after her promotion. Sixteen and still Chuunin. Tsunade-sama asked for a Jounin to lead a reconnaissance team. Though she wasn't, she had volunteered - begged - for the mission.

Intelligence mentioned nothing of the extra Cloud Chuunin guards. Only Neji could have detected at that range. The drugged gas had already rendered her teammates unconscious and she was last one struggling to remain awake, to keep her reason. She saw the dark figures approach.

Hinata closed her eyes and prepared herself to perform the seals that all Main Family were taught to protect the Byakugan. Dull thumps sounded in the clearing. And then silence.

She hesitantly opened her eyes. Sandaled feet stepped into view. Dark purple polish decorated the toes and she had a hysterical urge to laugh at the vanity and sheer dedication to maintaining such a nice pedicure.

Instead, she looked up. Her thoughts scattered.

Akatsuki. Missing-nin. Merciless killer. Itachi.

Yet her enemies were sprawled on the ground around them and she was still breathing. He kneeled down so their faces were more level. He looked tired.

"Your bodies will metabolize the last of the drugs in approximately half an hour," he told her. "You are safe now."

Maybe it was her intoxicated state, but she believed him.

"Why are you doing this?" she slurred.

He blinked, as if the reason had not occurred to him.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "Perhaps I acted impulsively."

He left before she could thank him.

* * *

The journey to Wave to find Itachi was longer than she'd remembered, but Hinata had never wanted to be there so badly before. Her feet felt both too light and too heavy as she launched herself through the trees, leaves and branches melding into an endless stream of color that did nothing to distract her from her thoughts.

All she had to go on was a hunch, a slim possibility.

She shook her head. No, it was more than that. Uchiha Itachi would not make such an elementary mistake. He wanted to be found. So she will find him.

It only took her a few days to track down the location of an old hermit by the sea. All the locals were wary of him, but were strangely protective until she assured them of her good intentions.

He lived in isolation on a rocky beach that was inhabitable to civilians. But it would be a perfect hiding place for a ninja. She approached, not bothering to suppress her chakra. He would sense her regardless.

He was standing on the porch when she broke through the scraggly trees lining the beach. She picked her way through the jagged rocks.

Hinata stopped several steps from his hut, and looked up at Itachi.

* * *

It was a simple courier mission. Just a B-rank. But her missions always had a funny way to warping into something bigger.

The scale of a battle that would leave such damage terrified Hinata, but she was a Konoha shinobi. She pushed aside the mental images of what kind of monsters could gouge such wounds on the earth itself and reduce stone to dust like gods.

"Byakugan," she whispered, activating her family bloodline with an imperceptible wisp of chakra. Neji and Hanabi could overpower their opponents, but Hinata's strength was a more subtle one - her opponents wouldn't even notice that she was there. Few others would activate their eyes with so little chakra that only chakra sensors could detect her if they knew to look at all.

Her vision scattered, until she felt as if she herself had spread out and become part of the ruins. Her awareness snapped to the familiar figure by the largest intact part of a wall.

Itachi.

Somehow, it always came back to him.

Hinata approached, feet silent and cautious. He laid curled up as if he was taking a nap. It should be a pretty scene, with the sun blurring all the sharp edges into softness. But the pallor of his face and the blood stark on his skin were grisly reminders.

Who felled the great Uchiha Itachi?

She wasn't sure he was breathing, and she didn't know why the thought of it tightened her own throat. Hinata laid hesitant fingers at his still-warm neck. Nothing. She focused her Byakugan onto his heart. The organ lay as still as the hearts on the autopsy table.

Hinata should have sealed his body into a storage scroll. She should have turned it in to the Hokage and taken her credit for confirming the end of a mass murderer. She should have left him to death.

Instead, she surreptitiously checked for witnesses, gathered his too-bony frame into her arms, and teleported to a nearby Hyuuga safe house.

Instead, she laid him out on the single cot and administered a jolt after jolt of chakra to his chest until the ends of her fingers were red and raw.

When she should have cried in relief over his death, instead, she cried in relief when his heart finally began to beat on its own. She laid her head on his chest, listening to the sound. Itachi remained alive. Unconscious but alive.

And a week later, he woke.

She wasn't initially aware of it, because ninja always played possum until they were assured of their safety. Hinata busied herself as usual: cleaning, grinding herbs, and making some soup to dribble into his mouth. She nearly dropped the bowl of it she brought to his room when she found dark, weary eyes watching her. The shadows of his gaunt face made him seem more wraith than man. More myth than mortal.

"Where am I?" he asked after long moment. Hinata gulped and set the soup on the nearby table.

"Hyuuga safe house…" She watched him carefully. Even near death, she had no doubt that he could kill her in the blink of an eye. Maybe simply with the blink of an eye. "You've been out for about a week."

"Why?" he demanded.

"I'm not sure," she said, recycling his words from before. "Perhaps I was acting impulsively." A faint smile crossed his lips. He remembered. Then just as quickly, his expression became shuttered and he turned away.

"You shouldn't have found me."

* * *

"Hi," Hinata greeted Itachi shakily, feeling more shy than back when she was a teenager. The slight widening of Itachi's eyes was the only sign he recognized her at all. The last Uchiha remained still for several moments. Then he turned around and went back inside, leaving the door open. Tentatively, Hinata followed.

"I have puer and green," he said tersely when she entered. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for support. He stood facing the stove and away from her.

Itachi's characteristic discipline was reflected in his home. It was small, but was kept in ruthless order and seemed all the more empty for it. A hard, neat bed in the corner with a pillow dented by years of use was her sole reminder that it was a human being who lived here.

He glanced back her, the tilt of his head was his only invitation to sit down. Hinata stiffly obeyed, perched on the edge of the wooden stool as if it was the edge of a cliff. The silence was so perfect she could hear the slow bubbling of the water as it warmed.

"Which kind?"

She jumped.

"A-ah...puer please," she stuttered guiltily when she realized he was still waiting for an answer. She always kept him waiting, didn't she?

He brought the teapot and cups to the table, setting both between them. He made no motion to pour. Steam drifted from the spout, wispy like the smoke of a distant campfire. Hinata broke first. She took a slow breath and she could smell the faint mix of wood and ocean and something that was uniquely Itachi. She took the teapot and filled both their cups.

"It's been a while," she found herself babbling. "How have you been? I can't believe it we're already so old. Time flies doesn't it..." She was never very good at one-sided conversations and trailed off. But age had taught Hinata perseverance if nothing else. "Do your knees still ache when it rains?" It was a useless secret, but one he'd only shared with her. She refused to let him pretend anything otherwise.

His demeanor changed, until his silence seemed to solidify the air. For the first time since she set foot in his home, Itachi looked straight at her. The black of his eyes chilled her. Before, she had always been able to tell what he was thinking. But now, his expression was inscrutable.

"Hinata, why are you here?"


	3. Chapter 3

Indefinite

By Airyo

Chapter 3

* * *

It was easy to lie.

She sent two messenger hawk backs to Konoha, to the Hokage and to her father, claiming that she'd been injured and would be laying low until she had healed because she was in enemy territory. They won't be surprised that she wasn't strong enough to protect herself. Month-long extensions were not uncommon, and the safe house was supplied to last a person at least twice as long.

Itachi had not uttered a word since the first time he woke. He was still too weak to get out of bed, and alternated his time dozing and staring out the window. The missing-nin was not a large man, perhaps only a half-head taller than Hinata herself. His was a body built for deadly speed. But even curled up into himself and trying to hide from the world, Hinata was sharply aware of him. Both of them were born of noble clans, which had their own system of language and politics separate from that of the shinobi.

Even though he said nothing, she did not hear the silence.

She heard '_thank you_' with the hint of a smile when she brought his soup. She heard 'I_'m sorry_' with the tilt of his head when he startled her with movements too fast for a man who almost died. There were dozens of small actions that revealed Itachi's thoughts to her, and the sum of them was a man far more human than the stories told. To Hinata, he simply looked tired of fighting.

His eyes held the same expression she had seen in Neji's and sometimes in the mirror - it was the look of a person resigned to his fate. Maybe contemplating something darker in order to defy it.

She wasn't Naruto, so Hinata didn't know how she clear that awful expression from Itachi's dark gaze. All she could offer were a few kind smiles and a warm cup of tea.

She passed the rest of her time meditating and practicing her kata. There was a small underground dojo, because somehow, it would make less sense not to have one in a Hyuuga safe house. The jounin exams were approaching, and her teammates wanted to enter together. The implication was that they wanted to be promoted together, too, though they were too kind to pressure her. Hinata did not intend to fail them.

She was trying to teach herself Kaiten, but it was not nearly as easy as Neji made it seem. It was difficult to keep her balance while spinning and she always inevitably ended up tripping over her own feet, bruising her knees and elbows with each fall. But she had to keep trying. Naruto wouldn't give up, and she wouldn't either.

Again, Hinata stood back up and activated her Byakugan. She bent her knees and began to push chakra outwards. Then, she kicked off, letting herself spin on the balls of her feet. Her hands were extended out, both to keep her balance and to direct the waves of chakra. Her Byakugan allowed her to watch everything around without getting dizzy. She opened her awareness more and -

Itachi was watching from the doorway.

Her control wavered, sending her wobbling like a disturbed top. She squeaked as her momentum sent her tumbling head over heels. The room continued to spin even after she'd landed in a pile of arms and legs.

Then he was standing before her. She wasn't able to hide her flinch at his speed.

He turned a palm up to help her, head tilted slightly in apology for startling her. It didn't escape her notice that he had refrained from reaching for her, politely giving her the choice to reject his aid.

After only a moment of indecision, Hinata placed her hand in his. His palm was calloused and warm - for some reason, she had expected it to be cold and clammy. Even with dark circles lining his eyes and shoulders slumped with fatigue, he pulled her to her feet with ease.

He was studying her with a question in his eyes. Hinata gave a wisp of a nod.

"Your are less aware of your left side," he said quietly. "Even you are spinning, you retain your sense of spatial orientation due the nature of the Byakugan." It wasn't even a question, because he already knew he was correct. "Left and right are static to you even as you turn, which is why your left side is constantly lacking chakra. It would make it impossible to keep your Kaiten going."

Hinata blinked. She wasn't about to turn her nose up at advice from a genius like Uchiha Itachi. It was nerve-wracking for him to watch, but he made no motion to leave. Hinata tried again.

She stumbled out early of the spin, but this time, she didn't fall. She turned to Itachi with a shy, triumphant smile.

"Thank you," Hinata said. "I feel much more balanced."

He nodded.

After that, Itachi always watched when she practiced. He would sit to the side and offer small, but pointed bits of advice: lift an elbow here, bend a knee further there. Slowly, Hinata could feel the flow of her kata smooth out, like crumpled fabric ironed to new perfection. Hinata grew used to his presence, even took comfort in his steady guidance.

But he never participated, as it was a strain for him to even make his way down the stairs to the dojo. It quickly became apparent to Hinata that his state was due to something far more sinister than injuries from a fight.

It was made horrifically clear one night.

She woke abruptly, sensing the something was wrong. Her first sign was his lack of response when she entered to check on him. Even from the across the room, she could hear the wheezing. Hinata leaned in closer to investigate, only to step back with a gasp. Even without touching him, she could feel the feverish heat radiant off of him.

She ran to the kitchen and brought back a towel and a basin of water, sloshing some on his bed in her hurry. After wringing the towel of excess liquid, she folded it and reached over to replace his slashed forehead protector.

His eyes snapped open, irises crimson and spinning of dizzying death. The towel fell on the covers with a wet plop.

She fell to darkness.

And landed hard on her hands and knees, the impact jarring both mind and body. She staggered to her feet, staring at the empty walls around her. She looked at her hands and stared. She was darkness, reduced only to the pale lines of herself.

"Hinata." She whipped around. Itachi regarded her with crimson eyes that were all the brighter in this grayscale world.

"You have a fever," she said faintly.

It was alarming that he was not surprised by the news. "I have medicine in the left pocket of my coat. When you are released from my genjutsu, please give it to me. Three pills will make it so I will not bother you the rest of the night."

There was a long pause, before Hinata realized that he had no intention to dispel his jutsu immediately.

"Ano...would you…"

He blinked and refocused those red eyes on her, as if he'd been lost in thought.

"This genjutsu lasts for 72 hours," he explained. "But only three seconds will pass in reality. If I break it early, the shock might render you comatose. Better to let it run its course."

"That's a lot of time for thinking," she murmurred. The Uchiha gave her a strange look.

"It was the not the intention of this technique. It was created for the purpose of torture."

"But you aren't going to torture me," she said. A faint smile curled his lips.

"No, unless you are impatient. Three days is indeed a long time."

"But it's not real," she said. Even as she said, Hinata wondered if she was assuming too much. She frowned. "Is it?"

"I think, therefore I am," he quoted. "Though the medium is slightly different, it is just as real the world outside our minds." In other words, he was telling her that they really were spending three days stuck with each other in this not-quite-imaginary room. Hinata felt her face heat, and it was real as the physical act itself. "I supposed I can attempt a gentle early release," Itachi offered, noticing her discomfort. "Though that would require a deeper technique first to overtake this -"

"I-I can wait," she insisted with a flush. She really didn't want a 'deeper technique' anywhere near her. It sounded rather dirty.

"Very well. Please have tea with me then." On cue with Itachi's idea, a low table appeared with a tea set on it. It was odd to realize that he preferred the same simple comforts as her. He led by example and seated himself.

"Green or puer?"

The absurdity of her situation didn't escape her. Hinata, shy Hyuuga heiress, was playing tea party with Itachi, notorious mass murderer, because they were caught in a genjutsu that lasted for 72 hours. It was a scene straight out of some fangirl's fantasy.

"Which do you believe to be better?" she asked as she joined him. If they were subject to the whims of Itachi's mind, then she would take whichever he perceived as better.

Amusement flickered through his expression. Itachi understood her thought process and poured her a cup of puer tea. "I find green tea cleansing, but far too bitter."

Hinata took a sip. "Me too," she agreed.

Silence descended. Steam unfurled from spout of the teapot in thin, spidery strands. Itachi flicked a finger, and the steam twisted, forming crane that flapped its wings once before dissipating. Hinata stared.

"Genjutsu is truly the most powerful of the three arts. The mind of a shinobi is both his greatest weapon and his greatest weakness. That is what makes my clan's techniques so terrifying." She stared at him. "Yes?"

"You talk more," she blurted out. He paused and then nodded.

"It is...easier here. Tsukuyomi is a very specialized technique. Much like how blood flow to less essential parts such as the digestive system is minimized during times of great physical stress, Tsukuyomi suppresses the stray impulses of my mind so I can focus on the victim."

The Sharingan remembered everything, Hinata realized, and the thought of perfect recall of all her fights - the death, the cruel sing of adrenaline in her blood - made her shiver. But just what was so horrific that even Itachi needed to hide from the psychological aftermath?

Unless...

"Itachi, may I ask a sensitive question?"

The Uchiha turned red-wheeled eyes to her. He blinked once, slowly. "You may ask."

"Why did you kill your family?"

"To test my limits," was the automatic response.

Perhaps the genjutsu affected her too, because she shook her head, sending her long hair spilling around her shoulders. "But you wouldn't do something like that for such a reason."

He studied her. "And you presume to know me?"

"Of course not," Hinata said quickly, looking down at her hands. Her heart fluttered at her throat. "You...just don't seem like the type to do something like that."

Itachi turned unreadable eyes to her. "The mark of a good ninja is the ability to deceive."

Meeting Itachi's gaze was like leaning precariously over a black pool of water. She didn't know how deep nor how shallow it was. Nor what it concealed in its depths. The only way to confirm anything was to accept the risk of drowning and fall in.

"It is," she agreed. "But behind that facade is still a human being." Itachi almost smiled. She felt like drowning in that instead.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "For us ninja, humanity is a relative term."

The conversation was over. Itachi had already been more than forthcoming. "Perhaps," she agreed.

They spent the rest of their time speaking of inane things: on the properties of chakra when applied to the elements, on their respective doujutsu and their value for medic-nin, on a thousand topics meant for the dry textbooks all ninja loathed to study. But with Itachi, they were fascinating. His blunt, matter-of-fact treatment of each idea made it seem possible, more tangible in this intangible genjutsu world.

Hinata was disappointed when Itachi paused mid-sentence. "It is time."

Then she was on the ground of the hideout again, trying to gain control over her trembling limbs. The closest description would be a sense of vertigo, but for the sharp difference in dreaming and being awake. For the first minute, she can't manage the strength to even lift her head. The course floorboard pressed into the side of her face as she panted. The smell of the wood hadn't quite faded and Hinata latched onto the scent as tether to reality. If this was a gentle release, it was no wonder Kakashi had been in a coma for a month.

Eventually, she could manage to sit up without feeling as if she would throw up. She used the bed to brace herself up, hooking a bent knee on the space next to Itachi's leg for leverage, and reached the Akatsuki cloak draped over the headboard of his bed. She found the aforementioned cannister of pills in the left pocket. Hands trembling, she pressed at the hinges of his jaw until his lips parted. She dropped the pills into his mouth with a splash of water and stroked his throat with clumsy fingers to induce swallowing.

Within minutes, his breathing was steady and the high points of red on his cheeks receded. Hinata's exhausted body gave out and she slumped over on the bed.

She woke alone, with a blanket neatly tucked around her. Sunlight streamed in through the window, warming her side. She quickly forgot the sensation when she heard him enter the room. He set a cup of water at the headstand as Hinata sat up. She took a longer than necessary, unsure what to say after last night's experience.

"Your emotional attachment to me is unhealthy, if you are already shedding tears over my state." Hinata blinked at him in confusion until he gestured to the wet spot where she had dropped the wet rag. Hinata gave a nervous laugh. One, because she didn't expect Uchiha Itachi to have a sense of humor.

And two, because his jest was already truth.

That night, she sent a messenger bird to Konoha to inform them that she would returning. She needed to leave, to distance herself . More than anyone else, Hinata knew what the first curl of affection felt like. She knew the fluttering jump of a heart. She knew the scattered nerves warming the pit of her stomach, the simmering smile always at the corner of her lips ready for the next thought of him.

She still loved Naruto. But she was also falling for Itachi.

"I...I need to go," she told him the next morning as she packed. He lingered at the doorway, wordlessly watching her fold a shirt. Her pale hands winged through the black cloth like doves flying in a night sky. In reality, doves only flew in daylight. "I've registered this safe house as compromised, so no one will use it. The justu on it are high level enough to keep you hidden until you want to leave."

"Thank you." They looked at each other, at a loss for what to say in such a situation. One was a heiress, struggling for recognition but already recognized by her peers as a future leader. The other was a missing-nin, more widely recognized, but for his brutal crimes. Two opposite side of the spectrum never allowed to meet.

"Good luck, Hinata." She looked up. A hesitant, lopsided smile brightened her face.

"Thank you...I'll see you again…" It was a plea, a desperate command, for him to take better care of himself.

He nodded. She heard 'I promise', but she stared at him with determined expectation. Itachi looked amused, but complied.

"I will see you again."

* * *

AN: I had to rewrite a part of this. Sorry for the delay.


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